Lyrics to Our Lives
by SongofRejoice
Summary: A series of songfics, based on different moments of various countries' lives. It's a lot better than it sounds, I promise. This is full of sweet and angsty moments. Some characters may seem OOC at times. Chapter 2 is up, all about America and England and their bro-ness. Warning: Human names are used! I hope you all enjoy and don't forget to R&R!
1. Chapter 1: Stand

**A/N: This is my first Hetalia Fanfiction, and it's based on the song "Stand" by Rascal Flatts. It is full of cute bromance, and angsty scenes. I guess you could say the characters are a bit OOC, but I personally think it's just the side of the characters we never get to see. If you don't like that stuff, don't read. This first chapter is about Germany and Prussia.  
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**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia: Axis Powers or World Series.  
**

**THIS IS NOT A PARING FIC THAT MEANS NO GERMANCEST!**

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**Late 1800's**

"Ludwig? Hey, where are you?" Gilbert called. He frowned when he got no response and continued walking down the hallway. The sounds of his boots clicking against the ornate marble floor echoed loudly. He couldn't understand where the child had gone; he was just in the garden a few minutes ago. To be honest, Gilbert was worried. Yes, the violent and obnoxious Prussian was worried about a little boy. He had been in his office, looking over different battle plans with his boss, when Ludwig's nanny rushed in. She had said that Ludwig was being teased by some of the other kids in the garden and had run off, crying. The Prussian had immediately taken it upon himself to find the boy.

This led him to where he was now; in one of the many hallways of the Prussian's grand home, calling for a boy who apparently wouldn't answer. Gilbert was getting quite frustrated, where could have that boy gone?

From his left, Gilbert heard a small whimper. He paused in front of an oak door, which looked like it led to a broom closet. "…Ludwig?" he asked cautiously, moving closer to the door. A series of sobs passed from behind the door. Gilbert swung it open, revealing a small boy with blonde hair, curled up in a ball on the closet floor.

Sighing, Gilbert walked in, shutting the door behind him. No need for everyone to see the boy's moment of weakness. He wrapped his arms around the boy and pulled him into his lap. "Hey, you wanna tell me what happened?"

The boy sniffled, looking up at the albino. His normally bright, blue eyes were shadowed by tears and hurt; the kind of hurt and loneliness that no kid his age should have lurking in their eyes. But, he wasn't a normal kid. He was a personification of a country, soon to be. And Gilbert, being a personification himself, took him under his wing. He was, after all, of the same blood line. They both came from the family of Germania, the great empire. There was Roderich too, but there was no way in hell he was letting that aristocrat get ahold of the boy. He knew how hard it was for Ludwig, he just wanted to be like the other kids. He didn't fully understand _who_ he was yet.

"T-the oth-er kids were m-making fun o-of me." Ludwig choked out. He clung to Gilbert's shirt, staining it with tears. "T-they said I c-couldn't play because I l-looked different."

The Prussian's scarlet eyes narrowed. What a pathetic thing to discriminate someone over. He almost wanted to beat the bloody pulp out of whoever said that to his bruder. Wait….sense when has Ludwig been Gilbert's bruder? Well, he'd have to think that over later. Right now, he had a crying child to comfort. Thinking quickly, he began to sing a song he'd heard once.

_You feel like a candle, in a hurricane. Just like a picture, with a broken frame. Alone and helpless, like you've lost your fight. But you'll be alright, you'll be alright._

He slowly stroked the boy's hair, rocking him back and forth. He did his best to quite the boy down, but he never really was good at being affectionate.

'_Cause when push comes to shove, you taste what you're made of. You might bend 'til you break, 'cause it's all you can take. On your knees you look up, decide you've had enough. You get mad, you get strong. Wipe your hands, shake it off. Then you stand. Then you stand._

By the time he'd finished, Ludwig had stopped crying and was actually watching him. He never sang, claiming it was for sissy girls, but Gilbert actually had a beautiful voice. He knew that if any of the other countries ever found out, he would be the laughing stock for the next century. But when it came to Ludwig, he didn't care about his reputation.

"Danke." Ludwig spoke softly. Gilbert smiled, ruffling his hair. They got up and left the broom closet, walking back towards the garden in silence. He watched with loving eyes as Ludwig ran off towards the other kids, ready to stand up to them and continue playing.

"Ich liebe dich, mein Bruder." Gilbert whispered into the wind, before walking back inside.

**Late 1880's**

Gilbert had decided to take the day off, to spend it with his younger bruder. Ludwig had grown a lot, sense he had first met him. He looked to be around 10-11 years old now, though he's definitely far beyond those years. At least if you were a nation, you got to look young for a _very_ long time. He had put a lot of time and thought into where he would take Ludwig. He really wanted him to have a good time. Eventually he ended up sitting on the top of a big hill, with an awed child sitting next to him.

"Wow! This is so cool, bruder! Danke, danke, danke!" Ludwig practically shouted. Gilbert smiled at his excitement.

"Sie sind herzlich willkommen, Westen." He replied, chuckling as the boy got up and leapt around. He giggled, spinning in circles, before falling back into the grass. Gilbert joined him, and they watched the fluffy white clouds drift across the sapphire sky.

"Hey, Osten?" Ludwig asked, turning on his side to face his older bruder.

"Ja, Westen?"

"Can we fly kites?"

"Ja." Gilbert smiled softly at him. They pulled out the kites and started flying them. They flew very high, uplifted by the calm, yet strong breeze. Only a few minutes later, a particularly strong gust of wind, ripped the kite from Ludwig's hands.

"H-hey! Stoppen! Das ist meins!" Tears began to fill the boy's eyes as he watched his kite get whisked away. He began to pout, staring angrily at the sky.

"Westen? Sind sie ok?" the Prussian asked, worried about how fast Ludwig's mood had changed.

"Nein," was the short response. Gilbert winced at the amount of despise in his voice.

"Ludwig, it's just a kite…" he began.

"Aber es ist nicht fair." Ludwig snapped. He tried to cover up the fact that he was crying, but Gilbert saw anyways. Frowning, he turned Ludwig to face him.

"Bruder, you can have my kite, ok? I don't need to fly kites." He whispered, handing his kite to the blonde. He really hated seeing his brother upset, and didn't want something like a lost kite to ruin their day off.

As he took the kite string, Gilbert sang softly in his ear.

_Life's like a novel, with the end ripped out. The edge of a canyon, with only one way down. Take what you're given, before it's gone, and start holding on. Keep holding on._

Slowly letting go of Ludwig's hands, he watched as the boy held tightly to the string, as if his life depended on it. His face was set in a very determined expression, his eyes concentrated on the kite.

'_Cause when push comes to shove, you taste what you're made of. You might bend 'til you break, 'cause it's all you can take. On your knees you look up, decide you've had enough. You get mad you get strong. Wipe your hands, shake it off. Then you stand. Yeah, then you stand._

"Osten?" Ludwig asked, eyes still on the kite.

"Ja?"

"Ich liebe dich."

Gilbert's eyes widened, surprised by the sudden proclamation. But his expression melted into a broad smile.

"Ich liebe dich auch." Ludwig ran into his arms, giving him a big hug. The Prussian either didn't notice, or didn't care as warm tears of joy poured from his scarlet eyes. He would do _anything_ to protect Ludwig.

**May, 1945**

Ruins. That's all Ludwig could use to describe East Prussia. It was totally ruined. Angry tears stung in the corners of the German's bright blue eyes. How could this happen? How could they do this to his Bruder, after all they've already done to him? They were as twisted as his country had been, in the blond's eyes.

As if making the great Kingdom of Prussia a Free State, wasn't enough punishment. As if the Berlin Wall didn't break his brother's pride. No, the damn Allies had to _dissolve_ the only piece left of his legacy.

Here he was, the Prussian's younger bruder, standing in the dilapidated remains of what used to be a great country. He was looking for a particular albino, whom he feared the worst for.

"Osten?" the German called, walking through the rubble. The gravel crunched under his heavy combat boots.

"Westen?" Ludwig froze, making sure he wasn't imagining anything. "Bruder, over here." He spun around, running towards the voice. He fell to his knees, in front of Gilbert. The Prussian was sprawled across the ground, a head wound gushing blood. He looked much paler than usual, which is pretty hard to fathom.

"B-bruder." Before he could stop himself, tears began to pour down Ludwig's face. It was killing him inside to see the strongest man he ever knew, practically dying before him. Sobs wracked through his body, and he fell onto Gilbert's chest.

"B-bitte….bitte gehen sie nicht." Ludwig forced out, through choked sobs. He desperately clung to the other nation's body.

"Shhhh….West. It'll be alright." Gilbert whispered, stroking the blonde's hair. The German grimaced at the nickname.

"You know, I never knew how perfect those names would work for us…" Ludwig pointed out bitterly, with a very sour chuckle to follow.

"Ja…"Gilbert tried to laugh, but it came out as a weak cough.

"…It's all my fault. If my boss hadn't…"

"Stoppen. Es ist nicht, deine schuld." Gilbert had lifted his brother's head, and was staring sternly into his eyes. "Do not blame yourself, you know I would do anything for you. I don't regret having your back through both Wars."

"…What am I going to do without you?" The Prussian's eyes turned away from his brother's. He didn't want to think about dying, but his brother needed some sort of comfort. He started singing the song, that meant so much to both of them.

_Every time you get up, and get back in the race. One more small piece of you, starts to fall into place, yeah._

As he sang this, he rested his hand on the German's heart. Ludwig's eyes filled with fresh tears, but he silently rested his finger on his brother's lips. He picked up where Gilbert left off, singing the lyrics he knew all too well, to his brother.

'_Cause when push comes to shove, you taste what you're made of. You might bend 'til you break, 'cause it's all you can take. On your knees you look up, decide you've had enough. You get mad, you get strong. Wipe your hands, shake it off. Then you stand. Then you stand_

Gilbert smiled, taking over again.

_Yeah, then you stand_

Ludwig pulled Gilbert into a hug, as they sung the last part together.

_Then you stand, yeah._

As they finished, both of them knew everything was going to be alright, as long as they had each other.

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**A/N: Ok so, the last part actually made me cry while writing this. I believe there are some things I should clear up. First off the translation...**

**Bruder: Brother**

**Danke: Thank you**

**Ich liebe dich, mein bruder: I love you, my brother.**

**Sie sind herzlich willkommen, Westen: You're welcome, West.**

**Osten: East**

**Ja: Yeah/ Yes**

**Stoppen: Stop**

**Das ist meins: That's mine**

**Sind sie ok: Are you ok**

**Nein: No**

**Aber es ist nicht fair: But it's not fair**

**Ich liebe dich auch: I love you too.**

**Bitte: Please**

**Bitte gehen sie nicht: Please don't go**

**Es ist nicht, deine schuld: It's not your fault**

**I don't speak German, so if i screwed anything up, PLEASE let me know. Next is the dates...  
**

**Late 1800s and late 1880s: Around the time the German empire came into being, consisting of what in modern day Germany and what used to be Prussia**

**May, 1945: Annexation of East Prussia, as it became part of Germany**

**I'll be writing more of these songfics, based on different characters in the series. I hope you liked it and don't forget to review. :)  
**


	2. Chapter 2: My Wish

**A/N: Here is Chapter 2, all about America and England. The song I used is in _bold italics_ and is called "My Wish" by Rascal Flatts. Each verse sums up the story underneath it...if that makes sense. **_**  
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**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia Axis Powers, World Series, or Beautiful World (YAY! New season!)  
**

**Please enjoy and R&R, da? ^J^  
**

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_**I hope the days come easy, and the moments pass slow. And each road leads you where you want to go.**_

Arthur stood at the dock, watching as pilgrims said their final words to the family they were leaving behind. Younger children clung to their parents, trying not to get lost in the crowd. Tearful mothers watched longingly as their sons boarded the wooden ships, and father's looked on with proud features.

His younger brother was to depart on one of those boats today. The only person he had ever given his heart to, was leaving him in search of a "**new land, for me and my people**". His eyes stung slightly and there seemed to be a lump in his throat that he couldn't swallow. The Briton sighed in frustration as tears of confusion and hurt betrayed him, rolling down his cheeks.

"All abooooaard!" a crewmate called, signaling the rapidly approaching departure of the pilgrim ships. Arthur quickly wiped his face, erasing all traces of weakness. He gazed up at the deck of a ship, in hopes of catching one last glimpse of his brother.

"Iggy! Iggy! Hey, I'm up here!" a small figure with blonde hair and blue eyes stood on the hull of the deck, waving frantically. Arthur forced a smile to appear on his face as he waved back.

"Are you sure you are ready to go?" he called from his position on the dock. He silently hoped the answer would be no. The young boy nodded with enthusiasm. The elder nation felt a jolt of pain, right where his heart was. "W-Well then, off you go. Remember what I told you, and be careful."

Rolling his eyes, the boy called back, "I can take care of myself big brother! I'm going to build an entire nation on my own; I'll be as strong as you." He exclaimed with a determined expression. The boat began to pull out of the port, and into the open sea. Panic suddenly fell across his features, but the boy quickly regained his composure. With a final call out to Arthur, he said "You'll see how great and powerful I am, and you'll be proud of me. I promise, I'll be the best brother you've ever had!"

Arthur could feel the tears begin to form in his eyes again, as he watched the_ Discovery_, _Godspeed_, and _Susan Constant_ set sail to the New World.

_**And if you're faced with the choice and you have to choose, I hope you choose the one that means the most to you. And if one door opens to another door closed, I hope you keep on walking 'til you find the window.**_

Arthur blinked, looking forward with cold eyes. The rain cascaded down from the heavens, only enhancing the mood. It soaked his hair, as well as his clothes, but all he could focus on was the young nation in front of him. Sky blue eyes and wheat blonde hair did not compliment the facial features of his colony at this current time. An angry scowl was plastered on the boy- _young man's_- face, as he clutched his bayonet tightly.

Underneath his bitter façade, however, Arthur's heart was breaking. He called out to the other man, with a calculating tone. "Why do you have to be so stubborn Alfred? Being a nation is hard work, I'm only protecting you by-"

"I don't want to hear it _Arthur_." The British man winced at the resentment in his voice. "You've been controlling me and my people for far too long. I don't agree with how you rule, and I'm sick of not having a say in it!"

"Now, Alfred. You're just a boy; Parliament is far too complex for a colony to handle-"

"Ha! 'Too complex' isn't an excuse! As a colony of the United Kingdom I have a right to be represented." Alfred cut him off again, glaring at the Briton.

"W-well, why must you do this? I can get you a representation in Parliament if that's what you want…"

"No. I need to be my own country. I can't be under laws my people don't agree with. I want to give them all the rights a human should have. I want the people to rule, to decide…" Arthur blinked at the authority in his voice, the pure_ confidence _Alfred had within himself and what he stood for. He knew that he wasn't going to win this battle, but his pride wouldn't let him just surrender. No, he had to at least _try _to keep his colony under his rule.

With an outraged cry, Arthur rushed forward. His bayonet was aimed at the other nation's heart, and all he saw was red. With wide eyes, Alfred raised his gun, blocking the attack. The force ripped the bayonet from his hands, where it landed in the mud next to him. The rebelling country was left defenseless against his guardian. In that moment, Arthur knew he couldn't bring himself to hurt the other nation.

Arthur's moment of strength left him, and he fell to his knees. He felt tears pour down his face and he began to cry. He cried for his lost brother, for letting his people down, but mostly for the two nation's future. He knew, as he knelt on the battlefield, that it would be a very long time before their relationship was mended.

_**If it's cold outside, show the world the warmth of your smile, but more than anything…..more than anything….**_

Arthur sighed, sitting in his rocking chair by the fireplace. It had been almost fifteen years since he'd last seen his former colony. The young nation had gone into isolation from Great Britain almost directly after what people were now calling the American Revolution. According to what Alfred's brother, Matthew, had told him during his last visit, the nation was prospering well. He was now going by the _United States of America_. An interesting choice, Arthur thought to himself, as he flipped through a series of letters. A lot of them were from various British officials, informing him of meetings he needed to attend. Others were from countries (particularly France and Prussia boasting over their aid in Alfred's victory).

Letting out another sigh, Arthur rubbed his tired eyes. He didn't realized how much he had missed Alfred until moments like these. After a long day, the former pirate would come home to a bright smile and strong hug. Ah, yes. Alfred's smiles had a way of warming anyone's heart, or brightening someone's day. He really was the sunshine in Arthur's life…but now he was gone. The Briton couldn't help but long to see the young nation's bright smile again. How long until he got his wish, however, was uncertain.

Thunder cracked loudly outside of his window. Standing up, Arthur walked stiffly through his house, ascending the stairs with a gentleman's grace. He made his way to his bedroom, where he proceeded to change into his nightgown and wash his face. Once he had made himself comfortable under the sheets, he turned to face his large window. As he watched the rain streak down his window, he thought of that fateful day, many years ago. His thoughts drifted to Alfred, and as he started to fall asleep, he sent a silent prayer to his brother:

_**My wish, for you, is that this life becomes all that you want it to. Your dreams stay big, your worries stay small, you never need to carry more than you can hold. And while you're out there getting where you're getting to, I hope you know somebody loves you. And wants the same things too, yeah this, is my wish.**_

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_**I hope you never look back, but you never forget, all the ones who loved you in the place you left. I hope you always forgive and you never regret, and you help somebody every chance you get.**_

"Damn it, America! Why do you care what happens to those…those _Krauts_?" The British man practically yelled. The blue eyed nation had come to England and France, asking for aid to help the Germans in their current struggle with the Soviet Union. Every time they said no, America just became more persistent. It was wearing on the older nations, to say the least.

"Oui, I agree. Alfred, I do not understand why we should help them. They have done horrible damage to us; they are only getting a taste of their own medicine." France yawned, taking another sip of his wine.

Alfred looked at them both with disbelief. "You've got to be kidding me, you guys. 'Why should we help them?', where's your humanity?! People are _starving_, Ivan has been _torturing_ them! And whether you want to believe it or not, they are people too. _Nobody_ should have to go through what they've gone through-"

"Exactly! Nobody should have had to die because some crazy ruler said so, but that didn't stop the Nazis from killing all those innocent people-" England retorted, cutting America off.

"Yeah! That did happen, I know. I was there too! But if you believe letting _more_ people die at the hands of a psychotic ruler will solve anything then…then you're as twisted as they are." America proclaimed. The younger nation was becoming very upset over the nonchalant reactions of the other two nations. Both France's and England's eyes widened when they saw tears in the corners of Alfred's eyes. "Man, Ludwig and Gilbert are _brothers_. If you won't do it for the people, do it for them. France, Gilbert is your _friend_. Don't you owe it to him to at least _try_ to help?"

France looked away from America, not meeting his eyes. "And England, you and I both know what it's like…to be separated from a brother. Can't you find the decency to help them not meet our same fate?"

Arthur lowered his eyes to the treaty on his desk. It showed what parts of the Third Reich now belonged to the Allies. Ivan got the better deal out of all of them, gaining almost the entirety of what was once Prussia. A fat red line ran through the middle of Germany; to the right, Ivan's land and to the left, the small bit Ludwig could save of his legacy.

Nothing was said, and the office had fallen into a deep silence. With a huff, Alfred spoke in a broken but determined voice. "Fine. You two can sit here and watch our own kind suffer, but I won't sit around while people are dying. No one should have to live under communist rule, freedom is the only way. And God help me, whether I have your help or not, that damn wall is coming down!" With those final words, the blonde nation stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

"Ah, America is too generous for his own good. It's like he has no resentment towards them after all they did to him." France sighed, sitting forward in his chair.

"You're right Francis, he doesn't. Alfred's acquired a skill many nations haven't even bothered with taking the time to learn." The green eyed nation said thoughtfully, staring at the door America had slammed shut not a minute before. The Frenchman gave him a curious look, standing to look at the treaty one more time.

"And what would that be, _mon ami_?"

"Forgivness."

_**Oh, you find God's grace in every mistake, and always give more than you take. But more than anything… yeah more than anything…..**_

The green eyed nation shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He glanced around the room, trying to gather any information from the other nations who were present. France was staring at the door, with an almost _horrified_ expression. China was sniffling quietly in his chair, trying to hold a strong façade. Arthur gave him a pitied look. The Asian nations red puffy eyes were a dead giveaway to his current pain. As for Russia…. He sat at the table with a sickeningly happy smile. The Briton tore his eyes away in disgust.

The main reason the Allies were all in attendance was over recent events in Japan. They had all been notified of the….in-humane attack on the quite Axis Power. Even if they were enemies in this war, America had gone _way_ too far.

As if on cue, the blonde nation trudged into the room, taking his chair at the head of the table. The Englishman's large eyebrows furrowed as he took in the usually optimistic nations appearance. His uniform was covered in ash and dirt, as well as torn in many places. His head hung low, so that no one could see his face. And his normally straight and proud stature was reduced to a slumped form. All in all, he looked terrible.

"How could you, aru?" China's condescending voice rung out through the silence. America glanced upwards, his eyes filled with tears. "One bomb would have been enough. What were you trying to accomplish you _idiot_?!"

"I-I…."He began. But words failed him and he looked back down. His body noticeably shook, and he rested his head in his hands. "I'm so sorry. I screwed up, I…..I don't know what happened. I just…" All eyes were on him as they waited for a specific reason. Taking a deep breath, Alfred spoke in a broken voice "When I dropped the first bomb…..it…it felt so _good_. To just take revenge, I felt so relived. And I…I couldn't control myself. I kept saying to myself 'He deserves to know your pain, he deserves this'. But when I landed….all the people, the buildings…..they were just g_one_. I saw him….just lying there, covered in his own blood. It made me sick…and I realized…I had become just as much of a monster as they have…." Alfred broke into sobs, heart-wrenching to the point that the others had to look away.

"A-all I've ever fought for, all I've tried to stop….and I go and commit the same crime." Arthur winced at the self-hatred in his voice.

"Alfred…."

"But I'm going to fix this. Japan will get better, I swear on it. I will personally rebuild everything, brick by brick. And I'll give every citizen a hero's burial. They will be honored by my men for their ultimate sacrifice. I _will_ make it better." America said with determination in his voice.

The other Allies could only watch as he stood up, with determined features. America walked out the door without another word, ready to fix the mess he had made. Arthur blinked, before a soft smile graced his lips. He was proud of the nation that was for sure. He had turned out to be one of the best nations in history. Not because of his strength, though he did have that. No, it was because of his tenderness and compassion for others.

As Arthur left the meeting room, he remembered the prayer he said for Alfred decades ago. He smiled once again and recited the same prayer:

_**My wish, for you, is that this life becomes all that you want it to. Your dreams stay big, your worries stay small, you never need to carry more than you can hold. And while you're out there getting where you're getting to, I hope you know somebody loves you. And wants the same things too, yeah this, is my wish.**_

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"Alright dudes! We've been at this meeting for like ever, and I'm totally hungry. So I, the hero, call this meeting to a lunch break. We'll pick up in half an hour!" America's booming voice rang out. A series of murmurs and agreements followed as the nations filed out of the U.N. meeting room. America turned to his right to see Canada playing with his bear. "Yo, Mattie. Wanna grab a bite to eat with me?"

The Canadian looked up and smiled. "Sure, Alfred….as long as it isn't McDonald's."

"Aw, c'mon! Micky D's is the best!" He frowned, but agreed anyways. The two nations left the room and a few minutes later, England entered. He let out a sigh of relief as he walked up to America's chair. He fumbled with a slip of paper in his left hand nervously.

"Come now, Arthur. This isn't a huge deal, I mean, Alfred won't even know it's from me." The Englishman convinced himself. He placed the slip of paper on the desk and walked out. Now all he had to do was act like nothing happened.

~~~A half an hour later~~~

The nations, having returned from lunch, began to slowly filter into the room. They all had a few minutes left before they had to start up again, hence they struck up conversations with others.

America walked in, laughing with Canada. He stopped at his desk and stared questionably at a slip of paper on his desk. "Huh? I wonder where this came from." The letter had his name written on it, so it must have been his. Shrugging, he opened it up to discover a nicely hand written letter:

_ Alfred,_

_I know this is a very random thing for someone to say to you, but I decided someone needed to tell you. Everyone has noticed what's been occurring in your country, and we are all sympathetic about it. Not that anyone would ever act that way, but we are. Trust me; we've all been where you are. I guess it's expected for a younger nation to have economic issues. I guess what I'm trying to say is…we're here for you._

_You mean a lot, to all of us. Even if it seems like we don't appreciate what you do for us, we do. Don't ever forget that you're loved. I know this is extremely cheesy, but ever since I've known you, I've prayed this prayer. It was my way of letting you know someone cares, even if you never actually heard it. But I'm glad to say, you've turned out to be a great nation. And I'm proud of you. _

_Well, I've decided this will do a better job if you knew what I've been thinking. Just know that anytime you feel lost or upset, you can read this. I'm probably praying for you at the same time you read it:_

_**My wish, for you, is that this life becomes all that you want it to. Your dreams stay big, your worries stay small, you never need to carry more than you can hold. And while you're out there getting where you're getting to, I hope you know somebody loves you. And wants the same things too, yeah this, is my wish.**_

_**This is my wish, for you.**_

Alfred stared at the letter, a small smile gracing his features. He tucked the letter into his bomber jacket's pocket and took his seat. He looked around the room for any idea of who may have given the letter to him as Germany went through a roll call. Finding no possible evidence, the American leaned back in his chair, waiting for his chance to speak.

Across the room, England looked softly at him. The boy he had once known had turned into a strong young man, and he couldn't help but feel a bit of parental pride in how Alfred had turned out. He thought silently to himself:

_**I hope you know somebody loves you**_

America stood to give his presentation on how to stop global warming with an "insanely huge and awesome super hero". With a small chuckle at America's antics, England once again thought to himself:

_**May all your dreams stay big**_

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**A/N: Aw, the feels. ^.^ I know a lot of people will hate me for this, but I strictly see them as brothers. Bromance is adorable though, so you can't hate me that much...I hope. Anyways, I defiantly need to clear up a few things, so here we go.**

**-The names of the three ships were the first to carry citizens to the Americas. The Nina, Pinta, and Santa Maria were Christopher Columbus's ships, which is not the time period I was talking about.  
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**- The term "Kraut" is an offensive name for Germans. It was used by the British, French, and Americans during WW2. So please, everyone, do NOT use this phrase in public. I used it to make a point across in my plot (England no likey the Germans at the time) and I am extremely sorry if I offended anyone. :(  
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**-When the USA bombed Japan in WW2 we went overboard. We pretty much turned an entire area in Japan into a wasteland with the bombs we used, but then we quickly extended our hand in helping them rebuild.  
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**I plan on making more of these, but I have to say, I've been very disheartened that only one person has reviewed. Please review if you like the stories, otherwise, I get the impression no one likes it (which thus leads to me ending the series). Anyways...I'm just gonna post this now.  
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**~SongofRejoice  
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